Mrs. Penniman did not tell her brother, on the drive home, that she
had intimated to this agreeable young man, whose name she did not
know, that, with her niece, she should be very glad to see him; but
she was greatly pleased, and even a little flattered, when, late on a
Sunday afternoon, the two gentlemen made their appearance. His
coming with Arthur Townsend made it more natural and easy; the latter
young man was on the point of becoming connected with the family, and
Mrs. Penniman had remarked to Catherine that, as he was going to
marry Marian, it would be polite in him to call. These events came
to pass late in the autumn, and Catherine and her aunt had been
sitting together in the closing dusk, by the firelight, in the high
back parlour.

Arthur Townsend fell to Catherine's portion, while his companion
placed himself on the sofa, beside Mrs. Penniman. Catherine had
hitherto not been a harsh critic; she was easy to please--she liked
to talk with young men. But Marian's betrothed, this evening, made
her feel vaguely fastidious; he sat looking at the fire and rubbing
his knees with his hands. As for Catherine, she scarcely even
pretended to keep up the conversation; her attention had fixed itself
on the other side of the room; she was listening to what went on
between the other Mr. Townsend and her aunt. Every now and then he
looked over at Catherine herself and smiled, as if to show that what
he said was for her benefit too. Catherine would have liked to
change her place, to go and sit near them, where she might see and
hear him better. But she was afraid of seeming bold--of looking
eager; and, besides, it would not have been polite to Marian's little
suitor. She wondered why the other gentleman had picked out her
aunt--how he came to have so much to say to Mrs. Penniman, to whom,
usually, young men were not especially devoted. She was not at all